Grand Theft Auto: Going Deep
by Ps2Angel
Summary: Combined 2D/3D/HD Universes; More related stories to follow. 1996—Siniša Kivlov is Serbian ex-soldier working as detective for LCPD's undercover unit. After 10 women go missing over the course of two months, it is up to Kivlov to infiltrate responsible organization and take it down... Rated M for coarse language, suggestive themes and violence.
1. Getting Acquinted

**February 13th, 1996**

LCPD Headquarters, Newport, Staunton Island, Liberty City...

"So, we don't know anything about them except that they're kidnaping young women off the streets?" Slightly accented male voice asked. It belonged to a man in his late 20s with brown eyes, black buzzcut and of slightly shorter stature. He was sitting in an office with head of LCPD's undercover unit. Despite the fact that two were in isolated office, muffled clamoring of ringing phones, chatting officers and detectives and shuffling papers in work cubicles below them could still be heard.

"Exactly, Detective Kivlov. It's been going on for the last month or so. Since New Years' Eve, at least 10 women went missing, all the same. Middle of the night, snatched and gone up in the smoke." Man sitting opposite of Kivlov said as he crossed his fingers. "But, the reason you are sitting here today is that they slipped up during last snatch." Man added.

"Slipped up? How come?" Kivlov asked as he straightened himself up in the chair.

"Last night bastards tried to snatch one of our undercover officers working in Red Light District to bust pimps operating down there. You probably know her. Detective Cheng." Man said.

Kivlov nodded. Detective Mikki Cheng was his partner for the last two years, ever since he applied to work for LCPD after leaving Balkans and all of the needless violence back there. They were often known as "Dynamic Duo" of Undercover Division.

"Well, as you might expect, attempted kidnapping didn't go too well. One of them ended up with a broken jaw and the other got GPS locator stuck to his collar." Man elaborated calmly.

"And your idea is for me and Mikki to find the guy with a locator and use him to find out more about this snatch group?" Kivlov asked. That was how most of his jobs looked like since he was promoted. Locate the weak link in criminal group, get in, play wannabe criminal to advance through ranks, get nice and cozy with organization's leaders and then take them down.

"No. You are going in solo, detective." Man said as he readjusted himself in his leather chair.

"What? What about Mikki or Ray?" Kivlov asked. He was dumbfounded. He has never been undercover all by himself. His military training and psychological hardening ensured that he won't crack undercover, but he was nervous, seeing as this was his first solo assignment.

"Detective Cheng still has pimps to arrest and besides, guy probably remembered her face anyways and detective Machowski is on the sick leave because his leg is acting up again." Man explained.

Kivlov suddently remembered. Ever since he got shot in right leg during assignment last year, Kivlov's second partner, detective Ray Machowski was walking with brace on his leg because his tendons were torn, leaving him permanently lame.

"Shit, i guess i'll just do it myself then." Kivlov sighed before asking "Where was this tracker guy's last reported location?"

"Betting shop in Pike Creek. He's been hanging there for the last hour." Man said before handing printed picture of a guy with a tracker to Kivlov. He has also added "His name is Trevor Callister. Known to us because of break-ins from couple of years ago, as well as an attempted murder."

"Ok then. Pike Creek it is." Kivlov said as he got up from his chair and out of the office. Once he left the building and came out on a parking lot, Kivlov was greeted by sight of dark afternoon sky and feeling of dry, cold wind which faintly smelled of exhaust fumes and asphalt. As he entered his Declasse Asea sedan, he took a look at his wrist watch. 4:37 PM. Kivlov sighed as he started the car and turned up the radio which was tuned to Head Radio at the moment. "_Another day in American melting pot of shit." _Kivlov thought as he backed out from his parking space and sped off towards Shoreside Vale Lift Bridge.

**20 Minutes Later**

Pike Creek, Shoreside Vale, Liberty City...

Kivlov walked down the street in apparently the safest part of Liberty City. He knew for the fact that it was bullshit. "Liberty City; Where your car is our car" and "Worst Place in America" was how locals often described all three islands making this city up. The fact that he always left his car in isolated places by instinct after getting his first car stolen by some gangbangers when he first came in the city and the fact that he was closely watched by a group of young men with bandanas on their heads, some of them openly carrying brass knuckles and all of them almost definitely packing at least concealed Beretta in combination with everything he saw and did up until that point made Kivlov wholeheartedly believe those slogans.

As he turned the corner near Pay N' Spray quick-stop car repair shop, Kivlov saw small neon sign reading "Inside Track Betting Shop". "_This must be the place" _Kivlov said as he entered. Once he was inside, Kivlov was greeted by a sight of small room which had two slot machines in one part of the room while other part was dominated by betting computers for horse races. Northern part of the room was completely covered by telling counter that had three people working on it as they handed in payment slips to patrons. Above the counters was a row of TVs showing variety of sports channels.

As Kivlov scanned the room, he took another glance at the guy's picture. It was black and white, but face was recognizable enough. He pocketed it as he noticed a man fitting the appearance of one Trevor Callister swearing and hitting one of the slot machines.

"Fucking machine! This shit is fucking rigged!" Man swore as he kicked the machine. He was average caucassian man in his late 30s with slightly receeding light brown hair and wearing black zipped-up jacket in combination with blue jeans and brown work boots.

"Hey! Go and kick something else, asswipe! These things aren't cheap to fix!" One of counter workers yelled at Trevor. Trevor turned around and yelled back "What? You want me to kick _you _instead?! That glass won't protect you!"

Kivlov leaned against the wall near the exit door and watched as situation slowly escalated with more counter workers getting involved in trying to get Trevor out, waiting for an opportunity to speak to him.

"Sir, if you keep this up, i'll call the police." One of counter workers finally threatened. This made Trevor back down slightly as he sighed before quietly saying "You're lucky i don't need anymore trouble with a law." With that, he spun on his heel and headed for the exit, slightly elbowing Kivlov as he passed him.

"_Ouch! Asshole." _Kivlov said to himself as he followed after him. Guy kept walking at fast pace through the streets of Pike Creek which were slowly getting consumed by a fog which has started to rise, giving already dark atmosphere additional layer of desolation and gloom. Trevor made a turn into an alleyway and slowed down as silence around them was filled by a sound of his mobile phone ringing.

Kivlov looked around. There was barely anyone outside at this point, save for occasional resident hurrying down the street and carrying groceries and gang members walking around. There were also a distant sounds of cars and motocycles passing by.

"Yeah? You got them ready for the trip?" Trevor spoke into the phone as he slightly slowed down. Kivlov took a few steps back as Trevor kept talking to an unidentifiable voice on the other side of the line. "Yeah, everything is fine with me. I'm in Shoreside Vale. Yeah, great, i'll be right there. I just need to take care of something first."

Kivlov felt slight nervousness in his body. He had left his handgun and badge in a car so he had little options if this bozo decided to pull a gun or something on him. As he realized that, he saw that Trevor was turning around as he hung up and pocketed his mobile phone.

"You really thought i didn't notice you following me all the way out of the betting shop. Normal folk knows better than to be outside when the fog descends like this." Trevor said as he started to slowly walk towards Kivlov. He stopped when he was at 2 feet from him.

"I guess we are in the same business then, mister..." Kivlov said. He feigned being dumb European hired gun. It helped with surprise when he finally cuffed his target and escorted him in the back of the police cruiser.

"Wait just a minute! Before we do meet and greet, how about you first tell me who are you and why the hell are you tailing me?" Trevor asked. It was becoming obvious that he was aggitated.

"I'm Mister K and i'm looking for certain... shall we say, opportunities in the city. That's why i came here. And you seem like kind of man that can hook me up with someone." Kivlov responded.

Trevor sighed and asked "You from Russia?" Kivlov chuckled and said "No. Serbia. But it doesn't really matter. I couldn't go back there even if i wanted to."

Trevor took another look at Kivlov before saying "I'll speak to my boss. We like new faces and you might be helpful with our current project. If it comes through, i'll call you on the payphone in Belleville Park tommorrow at around midnight, deal?" After that, Trevor started heading down the alley, but has quickly turned around and said "Name's Trevor by the way."

Kivlov nodded and Trevor walked off down the alley. When he left, Kivlov sighed. "_Great. Now i'll have to sit in Belleville Park in the middle of the night like a fucking junkie. Let's just hope that ringleader is as much of an idiot as Trevor here is."_

_*_

**February 14th, 1996**

Belleville Park, Staunton Island, Liberty City...

Night was cold and Kivlov hated every second he spent sitting on a bench by enterance into park's public toilet stalls, right by the only public payphone in the entire park. As he tightened his brown overcoat, he took a look at his wristwatch. It read 11:54 PM. He also saw a young couple walking into the bathroom stalls, giggling all the way down.

"_Kids." _Kivlov thought as light smile crept across his face. It was quickly wiped as his face was hit by a strong gust of cold wind. Fact that he was freezing his ass off and was on lookout for strung-out junkies who would almost certainly rob him if given the opportunity made him far crankier than he liked as he still had to act like an idiot for Trevor when he finally decides to call. He has notified his superiors in LCPD about development and was cleared to procceed with mission.

Kivlov glanced at his wristwatch again. It now read 11:59 PM. _"Let's just hope he hasn't forgotten."_' Kivlov thought briefly. Night sky was dark brown with patches of dark blue signaling clear skies. There was also a full moon throwing bleak light onto the park already lit by gaslight lamps.

As Kivlov prepared to take another look at his watch, he was startled by sudden sound of payphone next to him ringing. "_Finally!" _Kivlov mentally exclaimed as he inched closer to payphone and answered it.

—"Hello?"

—_"Is this Mister K?"_

_—"_Yes. I was expecting this call."

—"_It's Trevor. I spoke to my boss and he wants to meet you in person, see if you're the real deal."_

_—_That soon? Just name time and place."

—_Cold. Meet us in 1 PM at an abandoned warehouse on Portland Docks. You know the one?"_

—Yeah, i do. Saw some punks drinking and smoking weed there when i drove past it the other day."

—_Alright then. See you tommorrow. I am looking forward to working alongside you._

_—_Likewise.

As call ended, Kivlov exhaled deeply. "_They really are an idiots." _Kivlov said to himself. If they were so willing to let an outsider into their gang so easily, it's miracle that they are still operating. As he thought that, Kivlov got up from the bench and headed towards the park exit. He wasn't planning on sticking there any longer than he had to.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Baby Steps

**February ****14th, 1996**

Portland Docks, Portland, Liberty City...

Kivlov drove down the road leading into city's sea port. Unlike previous day, this one was sunny with clear blue skies dominating the horizon over the city filled with sounds of people talking, cars passing by and honking at each other in traffic jams. As he was nearing sea port, Kivlov noticed that those sounds were becoming accompanied by the sounds of boat fog horns and heavy machinery.

Kivlov eventually pulled up next to a warehouse that had noticably broken windows and graffitti all over its facade. There were also broken and thrown away Pissweiser beer bottles and needles. As he took the image in, Kivlov took a look at his wristwatch. It read 12:56 AM.

"_About time to head in." _Kivlov said to himself as he tried to open the front door. He briefly tugged on the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge.

"_Figures." _Kivlov sighed as he walked around back. There was another door and surprisingly, they were unlocked.

As he entered the building, Kivlov noticed that it was completely dark with only sources of light being mostly smashed windows which cast clear beams of light into a dark building. As much as he could see, warehouse was barren, save for a ladder placed against one of the walls and rows of empty metal shells. There were also discarded needles strewn around the floor.

Kivlov leaned against nearby wall just below one of smashed windows as he watched the door, waiting for Trevor to show up with his boss. He sighed as he watched at an abandoned warehouse around himself. _"Just like that improvised POW camp back in Vukovar." _He said to himself as the backdoor suddently swung open. Kivlov saw two figures entering the warehouse. They quickly noticed him as familiar voice called out to him.

"Mister K! I see you are punctual." Trevor said as him and second person walking slightly behind him approached his position.

"Why, thank you." Kivlov said, trying to get into his "stupid hired gun" mode. With any luck, impressing those dimwits shouldn't be a problem.

"So you are "Mister K"? Trevor tells me that you are looking for opportunities here in Liberty City, is that correct?" Male voice asked. Second person was still standing behind Trevor and was obviously intending not to get into light just yet.

"Yes. If there are certain... _ahem... _things you need done, i'll be happy to help for a..." Kivlov started before shadow-cast man butted in "...a monetary fee. I guessed as much. You polacks just like American dollars, and killing is far more appealing than scrubbing toilets, am i right?"

_"prejudiced asshole" _Kivlov said to himself but kept up his act and just said "i guess so."

"My name is Travis. If you want to work for me, you'll have to prove that you can handle yourself. When you do, you'll be let on into our group." Man said as Trevor stepped aside, letting him walk into light beam.

"What do you want me to do?" Kivlov asked, eyeing Travis' features as he stepped into the light. He was caucassian of average height who looked like he was in his late 30s or early 40s and had short black hair styled into buzzcut.

"I want you to go down into Red Light District tonight and kill a pimp named Ronald "Big Ronnie" Jefferson. He should be hanging out in Rubber Tip Nightclub right by Pay N' Spray car repair shop." Travis said. Kivlov looked him in the eyes whole time.

"Ok. I'll gear up and call you at some point before midnight." Kivlov said.

"Sure. Just do it through the open line. I wouldn't trust those mobile phone thingies as far as i could throw 'em." Travis said as Trevor produced a slip of paper and handed it to Kivlov. It had a phone number written on it.

"Ok." Kivlov said before asking "How much am i going to be paid for this?"

"Two thousand bucks. How does that sound?" Travis asked. He was really buying into Kivlov's act.

"Two? You mean five?" Kivlov asked. It was risky, but he still wanted to top up his retirement fund.

Both Travis and Trevor looked at Kivlov with slightly surprised expressions on their faces.

"Ok. Five thousand. But NO mistakes. Got it?" Travis relented after a brief silence.

"Don't worry. Your investment won't go to waste." Kivlov said as he left the warehouse and returned to his car. Once he was inside, he turned up the radio which was tuned into Lips 106 and got mobile phone out of his pocket, procceeding to dial a number.

—"_Detective Deever speaking."_

_—_"Hey, Sam. I just wanted to tell you, if Mikki calls in an shootout in Rubber Tip tonight, tell her that i'm working the case of those woman snatchers."

—_"Sure, but why are you planning to shoot up a nightclub?"_

_—_"Let's just say that if you want to bring a bad guy down, you sometimes have to act like one."

—_"Ah, i see. Just remember, don't get carried away like you did with that Croatian guy in cafe last year. We were litterally up to our throats in paperwork just because you couldn't shoot straight."_

_—_"I already told you Samuel, guy wanted me, Mikki and Ray dead and he's still out there somewhere. Probably preparing to kill some unlucky asshole he used to work for, like he did to those Diablos we had in our custody."

—_"Fine, fine i get it! He'll get what he deserves, but for now let's focus on you doing what you have to without creating a Great Barrier Reef of paperwork for me."_

—"Fine. See you around, slick."

—"_See ya._"

Kivlov sighed. Samuel "Slick" Deever was a good collegue. He was mostly a desk cop and was fun to hang around, but he followed force rules and protocols like someone shoved them up his ass in the academy. As much as he knew, him and Ray used to be partners when they worked for VCPD in late 1980s.

_"Now to head into Ammu-Nation to get me an untracable 9 milimeter." _Kivlov said to himself as he made a turn towards Chinatown district.

**5 Minutes Later**

Ammu-Nation Gun Store, Red Light District, Portland, Liberty City...

Kivlov stopped his car in front of a small store that had Ammu-Nation logo above the enterance and glass display was also adorned with store logos. As he entered, Kivlov saw crates with ammo and guns neatly placed on shelves on the store walls while clerk was standing on the counter that had chain link-like material around it, making it look like a cage of sorts.

"How can i help you?" Clerk asked as he eyed Kivlov. Kivlov produced a Beretta 92FS handgun and said "Remove the serial number."

Clerk eyed him briefly and said "That's gonna cost extra."

Kivlov sighed and produced two $500 dollar bills that he placed on counter. Clerk took them before taking Kivlov's gun and walking away into nearby room.

As he left, Kivlov looked around, Ingram machine pistol catching his eye. He also noticed kevlar vest hanging on the wall near assault rifles.

When clerk got back, he handed Kivlov his gun and asked "Anything else?"

Kivlov thought briefly and said "That ingram and kevlar. Remove serial number from Ingram." It felt almost like ordering in Burger Shot.

"That's gonna be 1500 dollars, buddy." Clerk said as he watched Kivlov.

"_That guy obviously wants to suck me dry." _Kivlov thought as he finally sighed and pulled out his badge. Clerk's eyes went wide in shock.

"Remove the serial number pro bono or i'll make sure you are arrested for it. Judging by your willingness to do it, this isn't your first rodeo." Kivlov said calmly.

"Who are you? Why do you want serial numbers removed?" Clerk asked. He was obviously afraid.

"I'm a cop. And believe me, this is for greater good." Kivlov answered as clerk picked up ingram and hurried off into nearby room. When he got back, he handed the gun to Kivlov who in response pulled out $200 dollar bill and said "That's for kevlar." before leaving.

As he returned to car, Kivlov placed Beretta in the door compartment and Ingram in glove compartment while kevlar vest was left on co-driver seat. "_Now to get ready for tonight's show _Kivlov thought briefly as he sped off.

**A Few Hours Later**

Rubber Tip Nightclub, Red Light District, Portland, Liberty City...

Kivlov's Asea was speeding down the streets of arguably the sleaziest part of Liberty City. An endless array of neon signs which were emmitting multi-colored light beams into a clear night sky, numbing dance music beats, drug dealers and of course, pimps and prostitutes. Kivlov was dressed in casual white shirt that had kevlar strapped underneath over which he wore brown leather jacket in addition to blue jeans and black shoes. His handgun was tucked away in the back of his pants and was covered by both shirt and jacket while Ingram remained in co-driver's seat.

"_Get in, find a way to get to Big Ronnie and put one between his eyes." _Kivlov repeated the plan in his head as he stopped the car at the curb near the enterance in large building that sat situated opposite the nearby Pay N' Spray. It had large red neon sign reading "Rubber Tip" with large neon dildo glowing white being situated where "i" should've been.

"I'm not taking any chances down here." Kivlov said as he backed up into a nearby alleyway. He noticed small plaque which had barely visible "Deliveries Only" written on it standing on the wall leading into the alleyway. "Fuck it." Kivlov said as he turned off the car engine and headed to the main enterance.

Once he was inside, Kivlov was greeted by booming drum n' bass music that emmitted throughout crowded dance floor which was lit by flickering lights. There was also a bar that had backdoor visible. _"Could be useful" _Kivlov muttered to himself as he walked further inside.

Atmosphere was hot and stuffed. Through numbingly loud music, Kivlov could make out some of club patrons laughing and talking to each other as he slowly pushed his way towards the bar. Once he reached it, he saw a female bartender cleaning some whiskey glasses. As she noticed him, she leaned in closer and Kivlov could hear her asking "What do you need?"

Kivlov answered "Location of Big Ronnie."

Bartender took a better look at him and after a brief pause asked "Why?"

"I've got some business to discuss with him. Seems some of his girls are trying to rip him off." Kivlov lied. As much as he knew about pimp-run nightclubs, bartenders usually knew better than to question their boss' job details. Wheter it be true or false.

"Oh, he's up in the lounge." Bartender said, pointing to the upper floor of the club.

"Thank you." Kivlov replied as he headed towards nearby doorway that had large afro-american man in suit standing in front. He stopped Kivlov when he approached the doorway.

"If you wanna get into lounge, i need to make sure you ain't packing, brotha." Man said and motioned for Kivlov to stand still and spread his arms.

Kivlov sighed. _"I don't have time for this bullshit." _he thought as he feinted spreading his arms before he suddently grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him into a wall, procceeding to sharply turn his head right, causing his neck to break with audible _crunch_.

Kivlov dragged bouncer's corpse into the doorway and left it slumped against the wall before procceeding up the flight of stairs. When he climbed up, he quickly noticed group sitting in one corner. It consisted of three scantily clad girls, most likely prostitutes and Afro-American man who looked like he flew right out of 1978 as he was dressed in pink fur coat and had matching fedora. Typical portrayal of pimp.

Kivlov took a deep breath and muttered "_No turning back now." _as he approached the table. Ronnie quickly noticed him.

"Hey, what 'chu want, man? Where's Eric?" Ronnie asked.

"I've got a message from Travis." Kivlov said coldly as he whiped out his Beretta. Ronnie's eyes went wide as he bolted out of his chair, pushing one of his prostitutes into Kivlov and making a break for the staircase leading to the ground floor.

Kivlov quickly pushed the girl off and ran after Ronnie, seeing him frantically searching bouncer's corpse. He shot two bullets at him before Ronnie suddently retaliated by shooting at Kivlov with bouncer's gun.

"Shit!" Kivlov yelled as he took cover behind corner at the top of the stairs. Ronnie kept shooting until his clip was empty at which point Kivlov could hear him cursing. Kivlov ran after him and saw him making a run for the backboor. He tried to follow, but has stopped dead in his tracks as bartender emerged from behind the bar with stubby shotgun that she fired towards him with shot hitting nearby table, leaving large hole in it. Kivlov fell backwards and quickly shot three bullets into a bartender, hitting her in the chest and throat. Kivlov could feel adrenaline rush in his body as he vaulted himself over the bar and ran down well-lit hallway leading towards the backdoor.

As he pushed the door open, Kivlov saw his car speeding away with screeching tires. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Kivlov yelled as he saw yellow Shitzu PCJ-600 motorbike passing. He quickly ran up to it and pointed his gun at the rider. "Give me bike, keys and helmet, NOW!" he yelled. Man didn't object and has ran off screaming while Kivlov mounted motorbike and sped off after fugitive Asea which was heading north through an avenue on the edge of Red Light District. They were on their way into St. Mark's.

As they kept climbing up the steep roads that made this neighborhood notorious amongst Liberty City drivers, Kivlov managed to gain on escaping pimp, shooting a bullet through back windshield and causing it to crack. This prompted one of pimp's passangers to open fire from... ingram!

"_Thieving assholes!" _Kivlov muttered as he kept shooting while weaving through traffic. He could feel the breeze hitting against his helmet.

As chase progressed by gas station in Harwood, Kivlov finally managed to drive up the side of escaping car and has tried to shoot again, hitting the passanger armed with Ingram in the head, causing his blood and brain matter to spray all over the back door windows. After that, he shot at the tires, managing to hit one of the front tires. By this point, they were in Harwood car junkyard.

Car spun out of the control as Ronnie tried to control it and hit white Declasse Pony van parked near large car crusher, causing its alarm to engage and ending the chase.

Kivlov quickly dismounted the bike and removed the helmet from his head as he watched the scene in front of him. Asea's front was smashed up badly and engine was smoking while Pony had some minor deformations on front and had its alarm turned on. "_Great, now this car is only useful as a scrap metal." _Kivlov thought as he pointed the gun in front of himself and quickly walked up to driver's door on Asea. Ronnie was knocked out, his head resting limply on the dashboard, just short of the steering wheel. He had blood running from injury on his head and a broken nose that was also bleeding.

Kivlov looked at him briefly and sighed "This is for greater good." He said softly as Ronnie moaned in pain and flinched, obviously regaining consciousness. As if on instict, Kivlov pulled the trigger on his Beretta four times, each hitting Ronnie in the side of head and neck and causing his head to be forcefully knocked into a steering wheel, thus engaging a horn. Kivlov looked at the mess in front of him and turned around to leave. As he did, he took a look at his wristwatch. It read 10:22 PM. "_Now to call Travis._" Kivlov said to himself as he mounted the motorbike again "_And i'll need a new car." _He noted as he once again noticed wrecked sedan in front of him.

**A ****Few Minutes Later**

St. Mark's Bistro, St. Mark's, Portland, Liberty City...

Kivlov was standing on a sidewalk near St. Mark's Bistro and was looking at the slip of paper given to him by Trevor. He sighed as he approached the payphone and started to dial a number.

"one-eight-six-two-zero-zero-five-nine-nine-seven."

After four rings, Kivlov heard Trevor's voice on the other end.

—"_I take it that Big Ronnie will no longer be a problem?"_

_—_No. He's at the junkyard in Harwood as we speak."

—_Great. I believe there weren't any complications."_

—"Fucker tried to escape in my car. Had to pretty much turn it into scrap metal to stop him."

—_"Well, there's no point in crying over a spilled milk, is there? If you want your payment, Trevor will meet you in bathroom stalls in Belleville Park."_

_—_"Alright."

—"_Oh, and also, meet me tommorrow so that we can discuss that project and how'd you fit into it. We'll meet in a basketball court in Witchita Gardens at noon."_

—"Sure. I'll collect my payment and meet you tommorrow at noon."

—"_Ok then. Don't disappoint me, Mister K."_

As line went dead, all Kivlov could think about was how in deep he actually got himself by this point. At least comforting fact was that soon enough Trevor, Travis and anyone who had anything to do with them will face justice. Probably. With those thoughts, Kivlov took another look on the winding streets of Saint Mark's as he mounted his motorbike and sped off.

**Later**

Belleville Park, Staunton Island, Liberty City...

_"They should really invest more into maintenance down here."_ Kivlov thought as he entered the Belleville Park bathroom stalls, known for its night-time population of junkies, crack whores and their johns, horny teenage couples and occassionally, a gang members executing some poor slob. Most of the tiled walls were vandalized with graffitti and those that weren't had their tiles broken. Sinks and mirrors weren't in a lot better shape. Mirrors were either broken or dirty and sinks were dirty and had used condoms or needles in them.

Kivlov leaned against a wall as he looked around for Trevor. _"I guess i came in early again." _Kivlov sighed as he looked at his watch. It read 10:43 PM. His attention was quickly diverted towards nearby stalls as he heard a sound of flushing from one of them. _"I should've guessed." _Kivlov thought as Trevor emerged from WC stall.

"Hey, Mister K. Good to see you." Trevor said as he approached Kivlov.

"Big Ronnie's dead. I'm here to collect my five grand as promised." Kivlov said, eyeing Trevor.

"I know. I've been standing here for the last 45 minutes. Kind of explains why i had to go." Trevor said.

"Yeah" Kivlov agreed and said "I'm also suppossed to meet Travis tommorrow in Witchita Gardens at noon. You're gonna be there as well?"

"No. There are other... issues on the docks Travis wants me to take care of." Trevor said before quickly changing subject. "So, anyways, here's five grand as promised."

Kivlov took the white envelope offered to him and pocketed it before saying "See you around, T." Trevor nodded back and left the bathroom stalls.

After he left, Kivlov quickly produced his cellphone and dialed Samuel Deever's number.

—"_Detective Deever speaking?"_

_—_Sam, it's me, Kivlov. I've got the lead about those woman snatchers. I found out where they're holding their victims."

—_"Really? Why did you call me then?"_

_—_I need you to relay this message to SWAT team. Tell them to send a team to Portland Docks. Trevor Callister should be there tommorrow around noon."

—"_If he spilled that in front of you, he really is an idiot. I'll relay the message and tell you the results of the raid tommorrow."_

_—_Ok. But call me around 2 PM if you can. I'm supposed to have face-to-face with ringleader of this circus at noon."

"_Ok. See you around."_

Kivlov put his cellphone away and sighed. "_I'm not even inside properly, and i'm already fucking their operation up. This is going to be over before it can even start properly." _Kivlov thought as he left bathroom stalls.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. The Meeting

**February 15th, 1996**

Wichita Gardens, Shoreside Vale, Liberty City...

Yellow taxi cab pulled up in front of a garage overlooking large residential complex of Wichita Gardens, described as "local hotspot for drug running and gang violence" by city's tourist board. Area around the complex was mostly empty, save for a couple of people talking on stairwell leading into one of the buildings and some teenager sitting on another stairwell with Walkman in hand and headphones in ears due to the fact that this morning was exceptionally rainy with thunder occasionally booming away in the distance. Wind was also quite strong.

"We're here, sir." Driver said. Kivlov sighed, briefly taking in the sound of raindrops hitting against the car roof and doors before producing his wallet and handing $60 bill to driver. "Keep the change" he also said to him before leaving the taxi. As he left the taxi, Kivlov opened small black umbrella that he held for a duration of his taxi ride. After opening it, he hurried towards nearby basketball court. He was already 10 minutes late for his meeting with Travis.

As he entered the court, he heard Travis' voice behind him saying "Fashionably late, are we, Mr. K?" Kivlov turned around. Travis was standing behind him, holding an umbrella of his own.

"You could say so. There was a car crash on Lift Bridge so we had to wait for a while." Kivlov said. "We?" Travis asked with puzzled look on his face before suddently chuckling "Ah, yes! Your car got busted up last night. Well, what matters is that you could come."

After this excange, two men stood briefly in the silence with rain falling around them before Travis suddently asked "Do you know why Trevor isn't here today?"

Kivlov felt slight cold shiver going down his spine as he processed the question. His guess was that as he was standing in the middle of basketball court with leader of this freakshow, LCPD SWAT units were in the middle of the raid on Portland Docks and Trevor was almost certainly being handcuffed right about now. "No." Kivlov lied. He gauged his tone now, as he didn't want to raise suspicion. Not now.

"Well, his absence has to do with that project i wanted to discuss with you, Mr. K." Travis said before asking "Have you heard of 10 women that went missing in the last month and a half?"

"No. What about it?" Kivlov feigned stupidity. _"Of course i did. That information still hasn't gone public to evade mass hysteria." _Kivlov thought as Travis said "Good. If you were to say yes, i'd assume you were a mole and kill you." Kivlov could hear it in his voice that he wasn't joking. This guy maybe wasn't so dumb after all. This was followed by a tense silence as downpour outside toned down into light drizzle.

Travis broke the silence again by saying "Anyways, me, Trevor and some of our associates kidnapped those women. You can guess why."

"_Human traffickers. I guessed as much." _Kivlov thought before saying "For sexual exploitation? To sell them into whorehouses?"

Travis chuckled before saying "We are working for someone else. They have a contact on Adriatic. His name's Bulgarin or something like that. All we know about him is that he lives on his yacht moored off the coast of Montenegro or Albania or wherever and that he takes most of the girls we can pick up and pays handsomely for them. Me and boss share earnings 50-50 and then my share is further divided amongst me and everyone who works for me. Those that he doesn't want we send to the boss in Vice City to take care of them."

"And you're content with saying all of this to a guy you litterally met yesterday?" Kivlov asked. He mentally retracted his earlier observation. On intelligence scale, this guy was slightly above sack of potatoes.

"If you are going to work for me, you might as well learn all of the fine details of our trade." Travis said before noting "You don't seem too fazed by what i just told you, Mr. K. Only other guy like you was Trevor."

Kivlov was slowly going over every Travis' word. He was running a human trafficking ring that worked for someone in Vice City and they had dealings with one of the people on INTERPOL's most wanted list. This could easily turn into biggest bust of his career if he played his cards right.

He was snapped back to reality as he heard ringtone of Travis' phone. "Excuse me for a moment." Travis said before answering. Kivlov looked at him and tried to follow the conversation.

"Yes? Wait, slow down, Trevor." Travis said to disembodied voice on the other side of the line. After brief pause, he suddently yelled "Wha- How?! Get out of there, forget the girls, we can easily acquire new batch with Mr. K's help. Just save yourself!" After that, he hung up and pocketed his cellphone before turning to Kivlov.

"Is there a problem?" Kivlov asked. Travis was obviously angry, but he sighed and said "SWAT unit ambushed Trevor on the docks. Two of my guys are down and Trevor is hiding aboard the ship with the girls."

_"Perfect!" _Kivlov mentally exclaimed but said "Is there something i can do?"

"No. Trevor can take care of himself well enough. You should lay low for now. I'll call you on your cellphone when we start grabbing next batch." Travis said before turning around to leave. However, Kivlov stopped him "Hey, Travis?"

Travis stopped and turned around "What is it?" He asked.

"What should i call your boss when i meet him?" Kivlov asked.

Travis thought for a moment before saying "Brother Marcus. Call him Brother Marcus." With that, he left.

As he was left alone in the middle of the basketball court that was now lit by the sun that weakly shone through thick grey clouds, casting slightly orange light, Kivlov sighed and mentally repeated "_Brother Marcus"._

**Later...**

Tarbrush Cafe, Bedford Point, Staunton Island, Liberty City...

Kivlov was sitting in the corner of the small coffee house. He decided to proccess the conversation he had with Travis while waiting for Deever to report back to him. Digital clock on LCD billboard across from coffee house read 13:55 PM.

Atmosphere of the coffee house was relaxed, despite bustling commercial area where it was situated. There was TV tuned to Weazel mounted on one of the walls that was currently showing episode of "The Simmons". Other patrons alongside Kivlov were couple of bussinesspeople and one young girl. Head Radio has also played quietly in the background. It pretty much reminded Kivlov of the bars back home that had simmilar setup and was more his cup than Bean Machine that had loud and sometimes rowdy clientele that consisted of teenagers, hipsters, hipster wannabes and everything in between.

As he took the sip of bitter black liquid, Kivlov heard his phone ringing. He quickly answered it.

—"Hello?"

—"_You were right, Detective Kivlov. It seems that they were loading 10 women into cargo containers. We arrested two out of three people involved but third slipped away. Women are also safe."_

_—_"Callister was the third one. Travis forced him to escape via phone."

—"_Really? He called him in front of you?_"

—"Yes. I've also found out that they are selling women to Ray Bulgarin through someone named Brother Marcus."

—"_That motherfucker_..."

—"Sam? Are you alright?"

—"_Yeah, it's just... nothing."_

_—_"Are you sure?"

—_"Yes! I'm fucking alright!"_

—"Alright, man chill! Well, they are planning to grab another bunch of girls because our raid fucked up their last shipment."

—"_Ok, when is that going down?"_

_—_"Travis wasn't precise about the date. He wants us all to lay low until the heat dies down. He said he'll call me when they start grabbing girls.'

—"_When it starts, inform us and we'll send some people to help you out with bust once you set everything up for a new shipment."_

_—_"Sounds like a plan."

As he pocketed his cellphone, Kivlov audibly sighed. He knew that Sam and Ray had some shady past together from when they worked together and that "Brother Marcus", whoever he is, was somehow connected. _"I guess i'll have to try and find out more about that once i wrap this shit up." _Kivlov thought as he sunk deeper into his chair and kept drinking his coffee.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. The Bust

**February 23rd, 1996**

Kivlov's apartment, Aspatria, Staunton Island, Liberty City...

"_In crime news, gang violence in Anywhere City is at all-time high with newest examples being cold-blooded executions of Gregori Fedorov and Anatoli Reditch, both were Ukrainian immigrants belived to be associated with local russian mobsters allegedly led by a man known only as "Jerkov". Corpses of two men were found this morning in a car crusher in city's industrial district. Investigation is underway with some believing that those are two additional casualties in silent gang war between Jerkov Bratva and Anywhere City Yakuza which has seen 76 members of both gangs killed over the course of the last two years. In entertainment news, Liberty City's airwaves will become richer for one station as Love Media launches Rockstar Radio which will broadcast newest acts in east coast hip-hop and gangsta rap and is set to start broadcasting on 1st of march-"_

Kivlov switched the channel to Fresh Music Television as he got up from the couch and opened the window before leaning onto the windowstill. Window overlooked the nearby park and Liberty City Memorial Stadium, its lights shining into clear night sky. Streets below were full of passing cars, people and students from nearby campus walking down the street and beggars sitting slumped against the walls with either one hand held outwards or with some sort of tin can near them for passing people to give them some of their money. Ever since he last spoke to Travis one week ago, he rarely left his apartment and kept waiting for him to put things in motion so that he could put this case to rest. Kivlov quickly glanced over to nearby clock. It read 8:38 PM.

He sighed audibly as he took in the scent of the night. It reminded him of what happened five years ago. As he crawled out of that warehouse with gunshot wound in his chest when that little shit Niko left after getting fed up with the war. But looking at it now, he couldn't really blame him. He wised up and left as well, only a lot later, when he already had tainted his hands with blood of too many equally dumb youngsters who traded in their school books for the rifles and marched off into death, as well as having robbed those that survived of their sanity and future. In the end, the alleged "rightful cause" that he fought and killed for was nothing more than unnecessary ethical cleansing that got most of the responsible from all sides of the conflict either still on the run or in jail awaiting trial in front of war crimes comitee in Hague. He was one of the rare ones that somehow outran his violent past, but never escaped it. And never will.

Kivlov's inner train of thought was derailed as he heard the sound of his mobile phone ringing. He left the windowstill and walked over to the coffee table where his phone was sitting. Kivlov grabbed it and quickly muted the TV before answering.

—"Hello?"

—_"Mr. K, it's me, Trevor. We're all ready for a new shipment. We expect you to get us at least six girls tonight."_

—"Don't worry. Your boss won't be disappointed."

—"_I wanted to help you but after pigs busted our last shipment and arrested Frankie and Donnie, Travis insisted that we co-ordinate security on the docks this time."_

_—_"Where should i drop the girls off?"

—"_Docks in the loading area near Atlantic Quays, you know them?"_

—"I've seen the enterance when i met up with you guys in a warehouse. I'll get there."

—"_Good. And make sure you aren't followed."_

_—_"Of course."

As the line went dead, Kivlov sighed. There was no way he was actually going to kidnap women off the street. He had another call to make.

—"_I TOLD YOU, I'M NOT BUYING GIGGLE CREAM, YOU STUPID FUCK!__"_

_—_"Sam, it's me, Kivlov."

—_"Oh, sorry. There's this guy pestering me and i've just about wrapped up my shift for today. Why are you calling?"_

_—_"That thing with the human traffickers is on. They want me to get them some girls off the streets, but i've got better idea."

—"_Enlighten me."_

_—"_I haven't heard anything from Mikki in a week. Has she finished up with those pimps in Red Light District?"

—"_Yes. Those guys she caught were working for Ronald Jefferson, AKA Big Ronnie, killed in a car chase last week. Their operation pretty much fell apart without solid leadership."_

_—_"Great. And about that thing back at cafe, You seemed kind of shocked when i mentioned Brother Marcus. Was he someone you knew back in the '80s?"

—"_The less you know about that, the better. Trust me, Brother Marcus was- is ruthless piece of shit and touching into his nest can only hurt you."_

—Ok. I'll lay off. But you'll have to come out clean one day."

—"_We'll see about that._ _Just focus on closing this case for now."_

Kivlov briefly listened to the sound of terminated call line before he punched in another phone number.

"_Detective Cheng speaking."_

_"_Hey, Mikki. It's me. I need your help with that case i'm working on."

"_What kind of help?"_

_"_Get dressed in whatever you wore while working your last case and meet me in the parking lot behind my apartment complex. I'll be in white Intruder."

"_What?! Why?"_

_"_I'll explain when you get here. Oh, and before i forget, call in few squads and tell them to wait for us at Callahan Bridge."

As he said that, Kivlov hung up. As much as he loved his partner and agruably best friend here in US, he couldn't risk losing his bust. After pocketing his cellphone, Kivlov turned the TV off and walked towards the hallway, grabbing his leather jacket off the coat hanger and heading out onto the parking lot. Rented Karin Intruder with white paintjob was parked there. Kivlov entered the car and turned the radio on. It was tuned to Radio '76.

Few minutes later, he heard the co-driver door opening and looked at the girl that sat at the co-driver's seat. She was chinese in her late 20s with medium-length black hair. Her apparel consisted of small, tight-fitting red coat that covered up black lingerie, as Kivlov assumed by small of black bra visible through unbuttoned part of her coat. She also wore fishnet tights over her legs and had black high-heel shoes.

"Hi, Mikki." Kivlov said as he turned the car ignition on and left the building's parking lot.

"Siniša, i'm assuming you're wraping that case up." Mikki said as she unbuttoned her coat more to reveal kevlar vest strapped to her exposed torso area. She also had gun holstered to her left thigh.

"And you're right. Have you called the squads in as i asked you?" Kivlov asked without looking away from the road. He was driving by Belleville Park at the moment.

"Yes. They'll meet us at Portland side of the bridge." Mikki said and after a brief pause has asked "What are you planning to do? What's the situation with them anyways?"

Kivlov sighed as he tried to recollect his thoughts before saying "They are pair of human traffickers. One is named Trevor Callister and ringleader is some schmuck named Travis. Allegedly, they work for some guy from Vice they refer to as "Brother Marcus" who has dealings with Ray Bulgarin. Point is, they kidnap girls here and ship them off to Balkans to sell them to Bulgarin through this Marcus."

Mikki listened as she buttoned herself up. As Kivlov finished she asked "Ray Bulgarin? That guy's been on INTERPOL's most wanted list since late 1980s, ever since that raid in La Manche ten years ago. If we pinch those guys that means that we might get Bulgarin one day."

Kivlov nodded in agreement before saying "That would be our greatest bust. Along with that Croatian son of a bitch we were hunting last year. I can't believe we let him slip away like that!"

Mikki sighed and said "We talked about this, Siniša. It isn't your fault. None of us knew that he would leap out of the fucking window."

Kivlov pulled up at the crosslight overlooking Callahan Bridge and said "He's responsible for the fact that Ray's lame right now. He's 35 years old and is pretty much useless if he can't drive. Not to mention that he's constantly at doctor's because that _kujin sin _litterally shot up his tendons."

"There's no point in crying over spilled milk, Siniša. He'll get what he deserves one day. Who knows, maybe he's already dead. He disappeared after that thing with Diablos last year." Mikki said as she unholstered her Beretta 92FS and checked its magazine. By this point, two detectives were crossing the bridge and have seen three blue and white LCPD cruisers idling at the side of the road leading into Atlantic Quays. Kivlov quickly glanced over to his wrist watch. It read 9:00 PM and clear dark blue skies over Liberty City were becoming dominated by bleak white moonlight that mixed with city's street lamps.

Kivlov pulled up behind third cruiser and looked at Mikki before saying "I was thinking that you should pretend to be the working girl i'll offer to those idiots while officers support us in case that shit hits the fan, and it certainly will."

Mikki nodded and said "You could've told me that over the phone. Or wait... You smug bastard! You made sure i couldn't back out."

Kivlov chuckled and said "No, i just thought you'll think i'm joking." As he said that, he turned the engine off and left the car with Mikki following him.

Two detectives were met by one of police officers who left the leading car and approached them. As they met, he said "Detectives, i'm Captain Phillips, leader of this squad."

"Detectives Kivlov and Cheng, LCPD undercover unit." Kivlov introduced himself and Mikki.

"Where do you want us?" Phillips asked while eyeing two detectives.

Kivlov sighed and looked at Mikki before saying "This 'trade-off' will take place in loading docks in Portland Harbor. I was thinking that you could infiltrate your squad onto docks and take cover near exchage point, seeing as none of you probably has a sniper rifle. Once me and detective Cheng blow our covers, you are to support us when shooting starts."

Phillips nodded and said "All of us are armed with standard-issue Berettas and we have one Itacha shotgun per car locked in car trunk. No offense to your idea, detectives, but i will co-ordinate positions for my boys well enogugh to support you when shooting starts."

"Fair enough, captain." Kivlov said before turning around and heading back to his car with Mikki. As they walked off, he heard Phillips yelling "Alright, boys saddle up! Time to get rolling!"

* * *

As Kivlov's Intruder stopped at the empty parking lot overlooking garage lockups near enterance into Portland Harbor's loading docks, he turned the radio off and looked at Mikki.

"What?" Mikki asked.

"Give me your gun, Mikki." Kivlov said and reached his hand out.

"What? No! You said it yourself, Siniša, there will be shooting when we blow our cover." Mikki protested and stared back at Kivlov.

Kivlov kept silent for about 20 seconds and then said "That coat of yours isn't long enough to conceal the gun effectively. I heard you busted jaw of one of those traffickers that tried to grab you while you were working undercover in Red Light District. That incident was what led up to this bust."

"So you think that i could break another jaw and then you'd slide me a gun?" Mikki asked. Kivlov nodded.

"That's stupid idea, Siniša. This isn't Jack Howitzer's movie. I'll rather hold on to the gun." Mikki said and straightened herself in her seat.

Kivlov sighed and proceeded to drive off the parking lot and onto the docks.

Center of the docks was bathed in white light emmited from large lamps installed near large freight crane that had logo of DUDE Machinery on its side. That was where black Karin Kuruma was waiting with Travis and Trevor leaning against its front. There was also armed entourage of seven men carrying AK-47 assault rifles. Kivlov noticed that they all looked like Jamaicans and that some of them even wore clothes featuring Jamaican flag and weed leaf.

Kivlov turned the car's engine off just out of the lamp light's reach and turned to Mikki before saying "I'll be a bit rough with you now, just so you know."

"It's in the job description." Mikki said before Kivlov left the car and opened the co-driver's door and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her out of car.

Kivlov dragged Mikki behind him while she tried to squirm out of his grip. Two eventually came to the light with Travis looking at Kivlov. He looked closer before asking "Just one?"

Kivlov chuckled and said "I heard that this hot stuff here caused your boys some problems last week, so i made it a point to hunt her down."

"Be careful, she knows how to brawl." Trevor said with a chuckle.

Kivlov remained silent as Travis' eyes narrowed before he said "Deal was six girls tonight, Mister K. Where are the other five? And how the hell do you know about that incident from the last week. No one outside of the organization knows about it and you weren't working for us back then."

"Point is, you american dipshit, that i never worked _for_ you. Detective Kivlov, LCPD, you're under-" Kivlov started before one of Jamaicans started to fire at him. "_Crap!" _Kivlov thought as him and Mikki reached for their guns and shot back while retreating towards Kivlov's intruder, managing to take cover behind the open front doors.

"What now?!" Mikki asked as she fired at Jamaicans that used Travis' Kuruma as cover, managing to hit one of them square in the head. Travis and Trevor were hurriying aboard a cargo ship moored behind the scene of firefight, their escape being covered by several Jamaicans.

"WHAT?!" Kivlov yelled as he blind-fired at Jamaicans while flurry of rifle rounds fired by Jamaicans banged against the door that he took cover behind.

"I SAID-" Mikki started yelling back before she was cut off by voices yelling "LCPD, DROP IT MOTHERFUCKERS!" which were accompanied by additional shooting from seven police officers that emerged from behind nearby crates and were rushing towards Jamaicans while firing at them.

"SEEMS OUR CALVARY'S HERE! LET'S JOIN THE PARTY" Kivlov yelled and ran out of his cover before sprinting towards the center of the docks, shooting at surviving Jamaicans and riddling one of them with seven bullets from his gun while Mikki who ran after Kivlov shot another one through the throat. As they inched closer to Jamaicans, Kivlov slid into cover behind nearby cargo container and quickly reloaded his handgun before looking at Mikki and noticing that she was barefoot.

"What happened to your shoes?" Kivlov asked as he regained his breath from earlier sprint. Mikki briefly looked at her feet before saying "I took them off while we were hiding behind your car. If i try to run in high heels in here, i'll kill myself."

"Good point." Kivlov said before he heard slight thump at his side of container. He looked at his side and saw captain Phillips clutching shotgun and catching his breath.

"You know, this is most shooting i've seen since Somalia three years ago!" Phillips said. After a brief pause he added "Me and my boys are going to clean up here, you make a run for that boat, that's where these two weasels holed themselves up."

"Thanks for the info, captain!" Mikki said as Kivlov leaned out of the cover to check on shootout. Jamaicans were slowly retreating towards the ship while LCPD officers were pushing them back and firing at them. They've had two wounded and one dead at this point.

"Don't mention it." Phillips said before leaning out of cover and proceeding to shoot at the remaining Jamaicans while Mikki and Kivlov sprinted towards the ship.

* * *

As two detectives reached the boat's deck, Kivlov looked at Mikki and said "We should separate. I'll head for the cargo hold and engine bay, you search cabins and command bridge."

"I'm assuming we're taking both of them in?" Mikki asked while checking her gun's magazine.

"Travis is important. As for Trevor, it won't matter whetever we bring him in alive or dead because streets will be short for one thug either way."

"Got it." Mikki said before walking off towards the door leading into the crew cabin.

* * *

Kivlov went down the metal staircase leading into the engine bay, quickly being greeted by dark void of it which was filled only by slight humming of the generator. Kivlov quickly reached into his pocket and produced small flashlight that he held alongside his gun. As he shined its beam along the room, he noticed just how small the room was and that generator was turned off. As he turned it on, its light humming became louder and lights in the room came back to life. That was when Kivlov noticed large door that had black faded lettering that once read "Cargo hold".

* * *

As Mikki closed the door behind her, she realized that boat was completely plunged in darkness, being illuminated only by moonlight that got in through the windows. Mikki also could hear that firefight was still on-going outside. She slowly advanced down the dimly lit hallway, opening first door that led into the small room that had bunk bed and a wardrobe. As she got in to check it out better, she was startled by all lights in the hallway turning on at once, bathing it in yellowish-white glow.

"_Seems Siniša found the generator." _Mikki said before proceeding onto the next door.

* * *

Kivlov was slowly advancing through the large cargo hold filled with several large stacks of shipping containers and lit by several rows of dim lamps that gave the room reddish glow, his mental state at the moment being "_on high alert" _as he aimed his gun around. One of them had to be down here.

As he walked around one of the container stacks, Kivlov heard yelling behind him before being hit square in the side of the head with something hard and metal, yelling quickly being replaced by ringing in his head as Kivlov felt himself hitting the ground almost automatically. He quickly snapped back to reality as Trevor yelled while trying to lunge at him with iron crowbar. Kivlov turned on his back and instictively formed cross with his arms to protect his head from second blow, proceeding to grab the crowbar in an attempt to yank it out of Trevor's hands, with Trevor managing to get it out of Kivlov's grip but stumbling backwards. Kivlov took the opportunity and got himself back on his feet, feeling warm blood as it leaked from injury on his head. He quickly assumed fighting stance as he fought blur that overtook his vision "_That asshole must've hit me harder than i thought." _Kivlov thought as he heard Trevor saying "I must admit, for the cop you aren't that bad of a brawler."

"Comes with the territory. Especially when i make for a living by putting scum like you away." Kivlov retorted as he scanned the area, looking around for something to use as a weapon.

"That doesn't matter, detective, and you know why? 'Cause you aren't leaving this ship alive!" Trevor said as he assumed fighting stance with the crowbar, proceeding to swing at Kivlov who dodged and retaliated by swinging at Trevor's head with his fist, missing and blocking another crowbar swing from Trevor before grabbing his arms and trying to force him to drop the crowbar. They were playing violent game of tug-of-war.

As Kivlov managed to pull Trevor close to himself, he tried to knee him into groin, with Trevor using opportunity to try and headbutt him. As he saw this, Kivlov quickly let go of Trevor and stepped back before kicking him across the head, stunning him and causing him to stumble backwards before he fell on his back, crowbar falling at his side. Kivlov didn't plan on letting him get back up so he quickly leaped on him and proceeded to beat him with his fists, busting Trevor's lower lip that started leaking blood and severely bruising his face before Trevor suddently grabbed Kivlov behind armpits and tried to reverse the position, failing as Kivlov quickly punched him directly into area between his collar bone and right shoulder, causing his arm to spaz out of control. Kivlov took the opening to grab the crowbar from Trevor's side and hit him in the same place on both arms, provoking loud scream from Trevor who started rolling around in pain. Kivlov got up and lifted his hand up to strike at Trevor's legs, breaking both of his knees and emmitting another loud scream from human trafficker before throwing slightly bloodied crowbar away and saying "You really put up a fight there, Trevor. What were you? Special forces? Military?"

Recieving no response, Kivlov picked up his gun off the floor and turned around to leave before he heard soft laughter coming from Trevor who said "Merryweather Security Consulting. I was kicked out for shooting a civilian in Iraq back in '91. And fucking hypocrites killed Hussein's soldiers for fucking oil, not to help Kuwait." before laughing again and stopping to groan in pain.

As Kivlov turned around to leave again, he heard Trevor saying "Detective, you and your slant-eyed whore have doomed yourselves. Because me and Travis, we're just tip of an iceberg. Cog in a large engine. And trust me, if you go against the Brotherhood, you'll drive yourselves into ruin because you wouldn't be first detectives that tried to destroy them. Just ask Ray Machowski and Samuel Deever."

_"Sam? Ray? What the hell happened to you?" _Kivlov thought before asking "Who's that 'Brother Marcus' that you and Travis responded to?" He wanted to find out at least something before confronting his senior collegues.

"Marcus... He's the leader of the Brotherhood. One of toughest motherfuckers i ever met. Guess that's what happens when you grow up surrounded by gang violence. He runs Brotherhood in Vice City like a fucking cult, they'd die for him on a whim." Trevor said before rolling on his side in pain.

Kivlov looked at him and said "I hope to hear more once you're safe and sound in a station." Kivlov said before turning around to leave. As he did, Trevor stopped him again and said "I'm warning you! Taking on Marcus and Brotherhood is dangerous game. I just hope you're ready to face the consequences."

"Wouldn't be the first time for me." Kivlov said as he left the cargo hold and ascended back to the main deck, seeing two ambulance vehicles, three police cars and several paramedics checking corpses of Jamaicans killed in shootout and tending to wounded police officers and handcuffed surviving Jamaicans. "_I really wonder how Mikki's hunt is coming along._" Kivlov said to himself as he looked at the scene in front of him, roating glow of red and blue sirens reflecting off of his face.

* * *

Mikki was slowly entering the command bridge, looking around the small room. There was no one. She approached the window near the steering wheel and saw Kivlov leaving the ship and approaching a paramedic who started to touch the side of his head and led him to nearby ambulance van. Mikki quickly turned around as she heard footsteps approaching her. It was Travis. He aimed Beretta 92FS handgun at Mikki as she was aiming hers at him. They were in standoff.

"You and your slavic friend would be stupid to actually try and take us out, you know?" Travis said as Mikki shifted her focus from his eyes to his gun and in reverse.

"And why is that? Your friend from Vice City is going to send someone to drive-by us? I already had my fill of that." Mikki said calmly.

"Oh, he's going to do so much worse. He'll hunt down everyone you love and destroy everything you care about before killing you. And you wouldn't be first to go out like that." Travis said, gritting his teeth in anger.

Two of them remained in standoff for about a minute that seemed like an eternity to Mikki before both of them heard slight thump in the room. Travis slightly turned his head towards the source of disturbance and Mikki grabbed the opportunity to knock the gun out of his hands and push him onto the ground with Travis retaliating by kicking her off and trying to get off the floor before Mikki shot at him, causing him to kick the gun out of her hands and kick her in the face. Mikki recovered and grabbed both of his legs, yanking him closer to herself and proceeding to climb his back before slamming his head into the ground several times and saying "Next time don't get distracted, dipshit." As she said that, Mikki grabbed barely conscious Travis who had bleeding bruise on his head into an armlock and started to drag him off the boat.

* * *

As Mikki forced Travis onto the dock, she was approached by SWAT unit of four people with one of them saying "We'll take it from here, detective." before he grabbed Travis and started pulling him into nearby SWAT van. Mikki looked around and saw Kivlov sitting in the back of an ambulance van with medic placing a bandage on the side of his head. She walked over to them and leaned against nearby SWAT van.

"You'll need to get stiched up, detective. You've gotten pretty nasty injury back there." Medic said as Kivlov supressed the urge to tell him to can it. His head felt like it was burning from inside out.

"Trust me, it's nothing compared to what i did to the other guy." Kivlov said briefly while massaging the other temple on his head to try and alleviate the headache that started replacing the initial pain from the blow.

"We're all done. We'll take you to Sweeney Medical to finish up." Medic said before walking over to the front of the van and assuming driver's position. Mikki walked over to ambulance van's back before seeing several paramedics wheeling gurney off the ship. It contained man who looked like he was pretty much broken physically. As they passed her, he turned his head towards Mikki as much as he could and she could hear something that sounded like laughing. He was being wheeled into another ambulance.

As she climbed up in the back of the ambulance and closed the back door, it started moving off the docks and towards the hospital.

"You got him?" Kivlov asked without looking up at Mikki.

"Yeah. But i didn't turn mine into cripple." Mikki answered and looked out through the small window in the ambulance backdoors. Moonlight was still shining over Portland as ambulance sped through the streets of Trenton.

Kivlov chuckled and said "That guy was ex-Merryweather. If i allowed him, he could've split me in two."

"Well, you were once with Yugoslav People's Army, weren't you? They taught you how to fight, no?" Mikki asked while looking at Kivlov. He remained silent.

"Look, sorry. I forgot that you don't like to talk about your army days, Siniša. After what you told me last year-" Mikki started apologizing before Kivlov suddently lifted his head up and cut her off "They did teach me how to fight. If i was smart, i would've left after my conscription was due. But no, i was stupid enough to stay and let myself be blinded by hatred and kill and traumatize all those people for bunch of old fools that tried to keep dying country alive for a bit longer!"

"Siniša, what you did is terrible, but you can't fix that. You can only go forward." Mikki said. She loved Kivlov, but she knew that it will take a long time for him to come to terms with his past. And she intended to help him as much as she could.

"Exactly, Miki! I can't fix that! I can't track down all the families that lost their sons because of me and apologize! I ran POW camp for Pete's sake! And for what? We lost both wars, we lost Yugoslavia and we just jumped from bad to worse until NATO intervened last year! Bosnia and Croatia, they were worst mistakes of my life." Kivlov vented and deeply exhaled, looking at Mikki who listened to him silently.

"You're better than your past, Siniša. You can't change the fact that you did what you did, but you can't let it break you either. Take it from me, lamenting bad life choices is surest way to self-destruction. I never really forgave myself for letting my brother die on Tiananmen in '89 and leaving my family behind in China, but i won't let my past haunt me." Mikki said as Kivlov looked directly in her eyes.

"Maybe that's why we're so close, Mikki. We both ended up here in America because of our own mistakes." Kivlov said as ambulance pulled up in front of the hospital with paramedic opening the back door and motioning two detectives to come out.

As Kivlov was led off into the hospital lobby, Mikki leaned against the ambulance, mentally repeating Kivlov's earlier statement. "_We both ended up here because of our own mistakes."_

Mikki felt cold night air hitting her face and legs as she walked towards nearby police station. "_Maybe you're right, Siniša. Just maybe." _Mikki said to herself as she walked into the station.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	5. Epilogue

**February 24th, 1996**

Sweeney Medical Center, Portland View, Portland, Liberty City...

If there was a word Kivlov would've used to describe a hospital that he spent a night in, it would be "sterile" as pretty much everything in it was white. Walls, doors, some floor tiles and doctors' and nurses' clothes. Window of the examination room that he currently sat in overlooked another rainy and foggy morning in Liberty City, with weather outside filling Kivlov with some sort of tranquility as he focused himself on raindrops sliding down the window glass, fighting the urge to scratch the itch at the left side of his head where he had row of stiches and fresh bandage. He looked over at the watch ticking softly in the background of empty room. It read 10:16 AM.

Kivlov's attention was drawn to the room's door as he heard them open. It was a doctor with graying brown hair who appeared to be in his mid-to-late 50s. "Mister Kivlov, nice to see you're punctual." he said as he walked over to his chair opposite Kivlov.

"Doctor Chambers, they didn't call me clockwork for nothing." Kivlov said, chuckling lightly.

Doctor Chambers laughed lightly as well before saying "Well, stiching went without problems, we'll remove them in 10 days so come back here then. And also, try not to sleep on your left side until then."

"Sure, doc. Is there anything else i need to know?" Kivlov asked.

"Except for the fact that detective Machowski came to pick you up and that you'll be handed a bill on your way out, no." Chambers said while shuffling through some papers.

Kivlov cringed slightly. Medical bills in US were way higher than they were back in Serbia and cop's wage wasn't all that great. Despite this, he nodded politely and walked out of the room, heading straight for receptionist's desk. As he got there, he handed his dismissal letter to receptionist who turned towards her computer and about minute later, handed paper with hospital logo on it. Kivlov sighed and folded the medical bill before stuffing it in his jacket and walking out onto cold, foggy streets of Portland View. "_Fuck me." _Kivlov thought as he started walking over to silver Ubermacht Sentinel that was parked near the building's enterance.

When he entered the car, he noticed that radio was tuned to Radio Del Mundo that was currently in the middle of its Balkan songs mix. "Cute music pick, Ray, but i always prefered rock." Kivlov commented as he adjusted himself.

"No need to thank me, Siniša. I heard that you and Mikki cracked down on those woman snatchers last night." Gravely male voice said. It belonged to heavy-set man in his mid-30s who had grey-blue eyes, mid-length black hair that was slicked back and was dressed in black coat.

"Yeah, quite litterally. Are there any news about them?" Kivlov asked as car started driving down the street towards Callahan Bridge.

"Well, two snatchers that we grabbed after your tip off last week were small-time crooks. Small-scale drug dealing, rent-a-guns and such crap. Working for those human traffickers was probably biggest score of their careers. Each got 15 years for drug possession. As for main guys, you already know for Trevor Callister's previous convictions, right?" Ray said as he stopped at crosslight.

"Yes. Breaking-and-entering and an attempted murder. He also fought for Merryweather PMC in Iraq during Operation Desert Storm." Kivlov confirmed as he reached over to car stereo to change station, getting his hand slapped away by Ray.

"Yes. And him and that other guy, Travis were working for Ray Bulgarin, that bigshot human trafficker. Both are awaiting trial, but my guess is that they'll get a life in prison. 25 years at best." Ray said. Two detectives were now driving through Atlantic Quays.

"Not only for Bulgarin, right Raymond? They had middle man in Vice City named Brother Marcus who took care of business side of the operation along with his gang?" Kivlov asked, noticing that Ray tensed up as he mentioned Brother Marcus. He knew something. Except for the radio and engine, car went completely silent.

"Look, i know that you and Sam had history with Marcus and Brotherhood, Ray. I just want to know what happened." Kivlov finally broke the silence. "After what happened to your leg last year, you found out about my past in the worst possible way. I just want to help you and Sam with that because we're partners. And friends."

"I don't blame you for what happened to me. It's just- Brother Marcus might not look like much on the outside. Just another ganja-smoking rasta prick. But trust me, if you get on his bad side, you're the only one that's gonna take it up the ass. Back in Vice, i had everything. Nice apartment, girlfriend, everything. And that fucker took it all away in just a couple of weeks after me and Sam started pursuing him. Firebombed the apartment while she was still inside. And Sam..." Ray paused, fighting slight crack in his voice. "Sam had a wife and two kids. Sick bastard kidnapped Sam and forced him to watch as he slit his children's throats and..." Ray paused again, swallowing the lump in his throat before continuing "raped his wife. I saved Sam and injured Marcus, but Sam's wife couldn't live with the trauma. She shot herself with Sam's gun while he was out buying groceries. I barely talked Sam into coming here with me and leaving Brotherhood alone."

Kivlov listened and tapped Ray's shoulder reasurringly before saying "These human traffickers were only the beginning. Me and Mikki won't stop until Brotherhood is down."

"Brave words, Siniša. But going up against them is dangerous game. Stakes are high." Ray said as he stopped the car. They were in employee parking space in LCPD's Staunton Island headquarters.

"They are never too high if reward is closure, Ray." Kivlov said as he left the car, walking off towards employee enterance at the side of the building.

Ray sighed, running his hands over his face and looking at himself in the rear view mirror. "_I just hope you haven't painted bullseye targets on your backs, detectives." _Ray said to himself, reaching in the back seat and grabbing a walking cane before opening car door and walking out into rainy parking lot.

**END OF STORY #1**


End file.
